


Please Will You Direct Me In the Right Way?

by nothingelsematters



Series: Liar [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Foursome, Liar, Live at the Rainbow 1974, M/M, M/M/M/M, Voice Kink, because really who doesn't have a kink for roger's voice, sexy Red Special playing, sexy bass playing, sexy drumming, the boys all having fun in the same bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 20:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16919688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingelsematters/pseuds/nothingelsematters
Summary: John's always loved playing at the Rainbow. Freddie loves it too. John's not sure the aggressive flirting with Brian and Roger is necessary, but it turns out the other three have planned a little surprise for their bassist.





	Please Will You Direct Me In the Right Way?

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, you guys. I am absolutely overwhelmed at the reception Everything You Do Is Sin has got. Thankyou all so much for reading and I hope the rest of the series doesn't let you down.
> 
> So here's the fic for their live show at the Rainbow in 1974: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvNxWd0zfVU
> 
> Also included in this fic are reference to these two adorable photographs taken backstage: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3e/1b/78/3e1b78d8b118c4de5992231476b47364.jpg  
> https://i.guim.co.uk/img/static/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/pictures/2014/9/4/1409855625773/098a3c63-1dc5-49c7-9ea4-43fe16869fb5-2060x1366.jpeg?width=700&quality=85&auto=format&fit=max&s=35d11491887fc12e5faf7067d64350e8
> 
> (The photos were technically taken before the show but Plot Reasons they are now after.)

John woke to a familiar feeling of warm security, and couldn’t help but smile, eyes closed, and snuggle back into it. His smile widened as he felt Freddie mumble sleepily and draw him closer, his lips moving softly against the bare skin of John’s shoulder for a moment, before lapsing back into stillness.

In the past, show mornings had usually involved waking early, and then springing out of bed to pace, John unable to bear the nervous tension that wound him up from the moment he woke. But that was before Freddie. Before they had come together, before they had fallen in love, before they made sure that they were roommates on tour and spent every night in the same bed.

Now, John felt none of the nerves that had plagued him in the past. There was only Freddie, Freddie and his warmth, Freddie and his love.

John cracked one eye open to peek at the clock. It was still early, they had many hours before they needed to be ready.

He wriggled slightly so that he was as close to Freddie as he could be, rewarded by the arms around his waist tightening and a soft puff of a sigh over the back of his neck, and went back to sleep.

*

“Knock, knock, my love,” Freddie announced from the doorway of John’s dressing room. “Don’t you look _ravishing_.”

John turned away from the mirror and felt a slight blush creep onto his cheeks. “I rather think I should be saying that about you, sweetheart.” He stepped forward to inspect the costume more closely; while it resembled the original outfit he’d filmed _Liar_ in, the vee was so wide that his whole chest was exposed, and he wore a black glove instead, studded with gems.

“I do like this,” John admitted, flattening his palm over Freddie’s stomach and sliding it upwards, fingers tugging slightly on the curling hair. He got exactly the response he was seeking; Freddie _purred_ like one of his cats. “Should I be jealous of how much the crowd gets to see tonight?”

“They’ve seen it all before anyway,” Freddie smirked. “Perhaps I should be more worried about how much the crowd will see of _you_ tonight.” His fingers trailed over John’s collarbone and downwards, tracing down John’s bare chest; his white shirt was unbuttoned almost to his navel. “You look positively luscious. Perhaps I should tie you up to make sure you don’t get dragged away.”

John really did blush this time at the idea of being tied up by Freddie, and that made the singer laugh.

“I do so enjoy finding out more of the kinks you hide in that pretty, innocent head of yours, my love. But don’t you worry. I have something very special planned for tonight.”

“Oh?” Now John was curious. While he and Freddie had spent a lot of time learning each other’s’ likes and dislikes in bed, it was rare that they did so on a show night; show nights were usually quick fucks to get the adrenaline out of their systems and then straight to sleep from exhaustion.

“Oh yes. I have every confidence you will _love_ it. But I mustn’t say more now. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

John grinned back at him.

“And how is that supposed to make me concentrate on playing?”

Freddie’s grin was wicked, but before he could speak, the door opened with a bang.

John didn’t even have to _look_ to know that was Roger; Brian opened doors softly.

“Don’t you go getting started now,” Roger said warningly. “Five minutes, let’s go!”

“I see you still don’t believe in shirts,” John observed as he collected his bass. True to form, Roger was shirtless, wearing only an oversized, rather extravagantly patterned jacket open at the front, along with what John was pretty sure was at least half of his collection of necklaces.

“Drumming is hard work and I sweat and get hot,” Roger protested innocently. “That people go crazy for my beautiful body is hardly _my_ fault. It’s purely practical.” He spun his drumsticks deftly between his fingers. “And if it has any other effects, those are perfectly coincidental.”

“I do hope you don’t expect any of us to believe that, Rog,” Brian’s voice loomed up behind them in the corridor. John turned to look at Freddie’s gasp, and raised his eyebrows.

Brian was in the usual skinny black pants, serving to make his already long legs look even longer, but the white pleated tunic with oversized, almost batwing sleeves was new. Very new. John tilted his head. Flowing fabrics usually looked good on their waif of a guitarist, and this one was no exception.

“Brian, darling, you look like a bird,” Freddie’s voice was amused.

“No, he looks like an angel,” Roger said, very quietly, his voice softer and sweeter than usual, and John looked down to hide his smile. Brian and Roger really were too cute.

“See? Rog knows what’s up,” Brian grinned, adjusting the strap for the Red Special. “It’s not my fault your eye isn’t artistic enough to see it.”

Freddie’s indignant spluttering was just starting to build when the stage handler turned and shouted, “Queen! You’re up!”

John laughed and nudged Freddie towards the stage. He had a feeling Brian was going to be rather thoroughly ignored all night.

*

John liked all their songs, but _Liar_ was his favourite. Not only for what he viewed as the one time his voice sounded acceptable, or the wicked bass solo he got to rock out to, but because of what it meant to him. He and Freddie had got together filming Liar. It would always be special to him for that reason.

_Such a sap, Deaky._

Still, sap or not, he found that he needed to move to the front of the stage during the intro purely for the way Freddie was slapping the tambourine against his own ass and thigh. They might make their living off being sexy on stage, but he was pretty sure that the people weren’t paying to see the bassist get a hard-on.

At least it didn’t last long. John felt, rather than saw, the tambourine go flying off-stage behind him, but he definitely saw Freddie stalk towards him, with cat-like grace, and the quick, little wink that he shot John, and, well. John was only human, after all.

But then Freddie was off, leaping across the stage like a gazelle, onto the drum dais to practically thrust his hips in Roger’s face – or get as close to doing that as he could with a drum kit between them – and John felt jealousy sizzle into his gut like it never had before.

He quickly made his way back to the drum platform too, standing there firmly almost in front of Roger as Freddie strutted towards the front of the stage. Perversely, he hoped he was blocking Roger’s view of Freddie’s ass, which he got to enjoy, as he made sure he was between them.

Brian, who had joined him, shot him a quick, odd look.

They couldn’t stay on the drum platform forever; John’s feet always got twitchy during concerts, so after a quick breath to calm himself down – _it’s just his stage persona, jeez_ – he wandered off to the side again.

Only to immediately regret his actions as Freddie danced back to Roger and began moving as though Roger’s drumming was controlling his body – and Roger, that little shit, was definitely flirting back.

Oddly, Brian looked completely nonplussed, even though Freddie was practically fucking his boyfriend right there on the stage. That did strike John as weird, since Brian was usually quite possessive.

He busied himself looking down in the bass, trying to get control over this too-strong feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. _Where_ was this coming from, this powerful jealousy? He’d never felt like this before and they’d done a dozen concerts since he and Freddie had got together.

But then again, Freddie had never quite flirted so outrageously with their bandmates during the other concerts. He’d flirted, of course he had – and John knew that was all stage show – but never quite so…aggressively.

_He shouldn’t be flirting with Roger – he’s **mine**!_

The voice in his brain shocked him with such a statement, and he was very, very glad the lights went down for the lyrics at that moment. It gave him a second to steady himself. He hadn’t imagined himself as the jealous, possessive type. He needed to get a grip before he became an asshole boyfriend.

_Breathe. It’s just like all the other times. And remember – he will come back to you. You and only you. Your bed. Your skin. Your body. He loves you. And Roger loves Brian, he will go back to Brian, it’s all stage play, they’re just in a mood tonight._

That was better.

 _“Liar_!”

John hopped back up on the platform, feeling better now, more self-confident. He even let himself enjoy Roger’s raspy scream and the thrill it induced up his spine. Yes, this was like normal. After all, didn’t he, too, admire and lust for his bandmates in this moment?

Roger’s second scream – more powerful and a little more exciting than the first – reminded John that he was supposed to join in on the next, and he moved forward to his mic, giving himself a moment to look into the crowd. They were enraptured, eyes all on Freddie, and John allowed himself a smug grin.

_That’s **my** lover. You don’t get to touch. I have him all to myself._

“ _Liar!_ ”

For a brief moment, Freddie lingered near him; then he jumped, honest-to-goodness jumped as though it was something he did every performance, right across the stage to Brian. John had a quick cacophony of thoughts run through his mind, most of them centering on Freddie hurting himself doing that in platforms, before realising that Freddie must have forgiven – or at least set aside – Brian’s earlier remark, as he was very definitely not ignoring him.

Well, two could play that game. John turned and strolled back to the drums, facing Roger as he played, and Roger gave him a smirk back, as though he knew exactly what John’s thoughts were doing.

And it meant that when Freddie returned to the platform to flirt with Roger during Brian’s guitar solo, he was right next to John, and John felt smug again as he noticed the way Freddie’s hips would jerk sideways occasionally, like he was very, very conscious of John’s presence.

This time John was much happier moving back to his mic. He was in a good place now, enjoying Freddie’s stage show and completely absorbed in his music. Plus, Brian was absolutely _shredding_ it tonight, damn, he was on fire.

But oh, then Freddie was back with the blasted tambourine, and hovering over Brian’s shoulder. And in his new state of zen (he supposed you could call it zen) with Freddie’s stage persona, he found himself watching the way Brian’s fingers moved, the way his brow furrowed just slightly in concentration, the way his body turned subtly in Freddie’s direction.

_Freddie and Brian would be really beautiful together._

Oh, now was _definitely_ not the time for his kink brain to show up.

He was grateful when Freddie moved away from Brian, still banging the tambourine – right up until Freddie approached Roger, at any rate. Then his stupid brain started thinking about Roger’s big blue eyes and his sweet little voice and imagining contrasts of darkness and light and well, _move the bass a little, and change thought track please_.

“ _Listen!_ ”

John deliberately timed his movement so that he had to “rush” to Freddie’s mic, making sure to bump up against Freddie to remind him of his presence. The way Freddie turned his body just slightly, and leaned back into John, sent warmth through his body. John made sure to catch Freddie’s eye as he licked his fingers before he continued.

Freddie went back to Roger as the rhythm section started, and John couldn’t help himself; he _knew_ this solo was killer, so he made sure to tear it up as best he could, feeling Freddie’s eyes _burning_ on him as he stood alone in the spotlight. He strummed harder, wanting Freddie to feel the notes down in his core, enjoying how much Freddie obviously wanted him.

It was nice to feel wanted.

He couldn’t help but return to Roger as the song began to roll towards its conclusion; he always fed off Roger’s energy. The drummer grinned back at him as they played, the rhythm pounding in John’s blood, getting him high in the best way, the way nothing else could. Freddie came up to join them, his body jerking with the rhythm as he turned towards John, and John could swear he saw Brian shooting them all a jealous look.

So he leaned in towards Roger a little, because he was an asshole sometimes. Brian came up to join them, trying to lean himself towards Freddie, but Freddie was having none of it.

At least right up until, as the drums reached their dramatic crescendo, he turned and walked straight up to Brian, dipping into a momentary crouch before standing again as though moving up Brian’s body.

John had to hastily reposition his bass again.

 _Later_.

*

John felt a sigh leave him involuntarily as he ran his fingers through the straggly strands of his wet hair. It seemed like a luxury to have a shower in the dressing rooms, but now he was warm and a little tired and it had taken the edge right off, and he looked mussed and definitely not able to face the public.

Brian and Freddie were evidently still in their dressing rooms, but when he came into the communal area there was Roger, wrapped up in a soft white dressing gown the twin of John’s, looking blissed out and soft and honestly, John just wanted to cuddle him. He could see why Brian was so absolutely smitten with the drummer.

“Hey, John.”

“Hey, Rog.”

Roger shifted slightly on the couch, and patted it. “C’mere, John. Let me fix that hair for you.”

It was then John noticed the hairdryer and comb next to Roger, which would account for his soft golden tresses lying dry about his shoulders, even though the rest of him – John snuggled in a bit closer – smelt clean and fresh and definitely not at all like he’d just drummed the hell out of their concert.

John closed his eyes as Roger began carefully drying his hair, working it over with a towel first, his fingers working through the snarls with infinite care, then applying the dryer to each section until he was satisfied. He took a break from the heat to comb John’s hair out, trying to gauge if it was dry enough.

John used the break in the noise of the hairdryer to speak.

“You’re very good at this.” And he wasn’t lying; he was laid back against Roger and Roger’s fingers in his hair were making him feel sleepy and good.

Roger snorted with laughter. “Have you _seen_ Bri’s hair? It _needs_ two people to deal with after he showers. I hope he hasn’t washed it tonight; we’ll be here all night and there are more important things we could be doing.”

“Oh yes, I can imagine,” John couldn’t stop the retort in time, but didn’t expect Roger’s wicked smile back.

“You have _no_ idea.”

The hairdryer clicked back on, and John was left to compose himself as Roger continued meticulously drying his hair. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the warmth.

Quiet filled the room as the hairdryer stopped again and John felt Roger combing again.

“You have beautiful hair, John,” Roger said softly. “Look at these waves! Effortless. I love it.”

John felt himself blush a little. “Not as pretty as yours.”

Roger waved one hand dismissively. “Pah. Golden blond. Dime a dozen and it’s a bitch to style. But you have such a gorgeous colour…”

John couldn’t help his smile; was Roger, their drop-dead stunning drummer, really calling him beautiful? No-one but Freddie called him beautiful and he didn’t always believe it, but if Roger said it was so, and Freddie said it was so, it _must_ be so.

Roger leaned over, and grinning, said, “I can’t wait for your surprise tonight.”

Before John could even process this, Roger had given his hair a slightly more forceful tug and shifted to sit up slightly as Brian entered.

The tug sent shivers of pleasure racing through John’s nerves and a million questions raced through his brain. How had Roger known he liked his hair pulled? How did Roger know about Freddie’s surprise? Why was _Roger_ looking forward to the surprise? What was going on?

“Photographer,” Brian announced, looking at the two of them with such a tender expression that it made John want to hide his face. “It’s nearly over.”

John watched Brian as the photographer came in, Roger laughing slightly at the idea of having his photo taken in a dressing gown. Brian had changed out of his costume into a different shirt and more skinny pants; he was clearly well aware what they did to his legs. His hair was dry, although John could see some dampness near the edges and guessed a shower cap was involved.

Roger excused himself after a few pictures to go get dressed, and Brian took his place on the couch, though not sitting quite so close. John tried to curl his legs up, nearly flashed the photographer, and decided to forget about it.

“Are you nearly ready?” Brian asked softly, so that the photographer couldn’t hear him. “Rog and I can’t wait, you know. We want you to enjoy it.”

The photographer thanked them both and left, though they barely noticed; John’s attention was all on the way Brian’s eyes were in their serious expression as he looked down at the bassist, and at the corner of his eye he could see those long fingers stroking the inside of his thigh almost nervously.

_Brian knows too? What is going on?_

“Bri,” John began, “what-?”

“There you are, my darlings!” Freddie beamed as he strolled in. “I was wondering where you’d got to. Not dressed, my love? As much as I’d like to open that dressing gown, I don’t think here is the right place. Let’s go!”

Brian jumped to his feet and headed out, leaving John and Freddie alone. Freddie too looked freshly showered, his hair dried and dressed in more normal attire – which John found ridiculously sexy anyway.

“Freddie,” he said with a smile, “What’s going on? Why do Bri and Rog know about my surprise?”

“Well, if I told you now, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” Freddie teased, kissing his nose, but John thought he detected a hint of nerves in Freddie’s voice, and wondered. “And you’ll never find out if you don’t get dressed so we can leave.”

John knew when to give in; there was no getting anything out of Freddie in this mood. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t return fire. Fortunately, he’d chosen his tightest pair of jeans when packing his post-gig bag today, and a very deep-cut shirt. When he returned, he walked straight past Freddie – sensing rather than seeing the other man’s eyes fixed on him – and deliberately lengthened his stride in a way he knew made his ass look terrific.

Freddie followed behind him, and John didn’t catch all the muttering, but he was sure he heard the words “the death of me”. He grinned smugly. He was still getting used to the effect that he could have on Freddie, and he got a thrill from it every time.

Freddie was unusually hands-off in the private car waiting to take them back to the hotel, which only had John all the more curious as to what was going on, especially given the fact that queries as to the whereabouts of their bandmates were met only with, “They’ve gone on ahead,” which answered precisely nothing.

By the time they arrived back at their hotel room, John was jumpy with the anticipation and also incredibly hard. He’d had to carry his bass case in front of him as they had walked through the lobby just so no-one could see his problem. Freddie seemed nervous, even more nervous than he usually was when he was about to propose trying something new in bed, and that just sent John’s imagination _wild_ with trying to think of what it could be.

He stopped to put his bass on the couch, and when he looked up, Freddie had already disappeared into the bedroom.

“Is this the sort of surprise I can see in adva…”

John trailed off as he stood in the bedroom doorway. Because there, on their bed, were Brian and Roger, and they were naked and making out like horny teenagers.

And god, they were _beautiful_. All pale long limbs in the dim light. Brian’s long fingers. Roger’s soft moans. John didn’t think it was possible to be this hard while still fully clothed.

“Surprise!” Freddie chuckled, but it was weakened by nerves, and his fingers were twisting. He’d already taken his shirt off. Roger and Brian had broken apart; Brian looked almost shy, turning away slightly, but Roger was shamelessly arching and preening under John’s gaze.

“I…I don’t understand,” John was forced to admit. Perhaps his surprise was to watch? But Freddie knew how much John liked a good fuck after a show. The pieces weren’t quite fitting together in his brain.

“It’s really quite simple,” Roger interjected before Freddie could speak. “You, me, Freddie, Bri, one bed.”

John blinked. Roger laughed.

“Sharing. Swapping. Foursome. However you want to call it. Hurry up and get over here, would you?”

John was pretty sure the circuitboard of his brain had just melted completely, sending heat spikes through every nerve ending.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Freddie rushed, and John could feel his anxiety. “I just thought it might be nice…I’ve seen the way you look at them…”

“Freddie,” John managed to assemble enough brain cells to speak, “Get on the bed.”

And oh, didn’t _that_ make Freddie blush so beautifully? John watched as Freddie fumbled with his jeans, pushing them down his legs and crawling onto the bed, seemingly unsure where to put himself; Brian reached out and pulled him down between them, and yep, Brian and Freddie touching one another was even hotter than he’d imagined.

He began moving towards the bed on autopilot, unsure of quite what he was doing, but knowing he definitely wanted to be there.

Roger, meanwhile, was totally out of patience. He sat up, making grabby hands, and seized John by the belt, dragging him forward until John was standing between Roger’s legs.

“I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for the _longest_ time, John,” he grinned, his fingers making quick work of the belt and tugging at John’s shirt.

John looked down into those big blue eyes and felt hunger gnawing the pit of his stomach. He quickly reached up and pulled his shirt off, a shiver running through him as Roger licked a trail along the waistband of his jeans.

John didn’t even get a chance to react further before Roger had the button of his jeans open and jeans and underwear shoved down to John’s knees. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of John’s cock, making him gasp.

“Rog-!”

Roger chuckled low, the sound vibrating his lips which were still pressed there, and John had to grab Roger’s shoulders to stop his knees from buckling.

The drummer immediately took advantage of the new angle. Bracing his hands on John’s hips, he opened his mouth and began taking John’s cock in, humming his approval and working his tongue around the head.

John’s knees shook again, and he grabbed wildly, his fingers finding a fistful of blond hair. Suddenly remembering that evening, he gave it a sharp tug and was rewarded with a loud moan around his dick.

“Rog, you’ll have to lay him down or he’ll collapse,” Freddie’s voice said, low and husky; John opened his eyes and saw Freddie laying back against Brian’s chest between his open legs. Brian’s fingers were tracing patterns down his chest and his mouth was working on Freddie’s shoulder.

Roger pulled back reluctantly and reached down to help John get rid of his jeans and underwear entirely; then John climbed on the bed and crawled up to kiss Freddie deeply. Freddie hummed happily in response, his fingers tracing John’s cheekbones, and John let himself indulge in the moment.

Then long fingers hooked under his chin, and John opened his eyes to look up into Brian’s dark gaze, staring with such intensity that John felt it like a brand.

Brian kissed more fiercely than John expected, all tongue and teeth nipping at his lip, and John surrendered to it instantly, letting Brian completely plunder his mouth as he wished. It was a dominating sort of kiss, and John felt his cock twitch in excitement. Freddie, between them, closed his lips over one of John’s nipples, and he couldn’t contain his gasping cry.

They were broken apart by a huffy whine from one side of the bed. Roger had his arms folded as he watched the three of them, his lower lip stuck out in a truly adorable pout.

“You’re having all the fun and I’m being left out.”

Well, he’d already kissed Brian and Freddie, and John was nothing if not generous. He clambered over Brian’s leg, tripped, and instead of approaching Roger gracefully like he wanted he ended up effectively crashing on top of him.

Roger laughed in a cracked, breathless way that suggested he’d had the wind knocked out of him. John decided there was only one good way to shut him up.

Kissing Roger was very different from kissing the others. Roger wasn’t aggressive or pushy; he just opened his mouth and let John do what he would. Of course, that just felt like an invitation to John; he made sure to bite at Roger’s bottom lip the way he liked, tugging at it with his teeth, tracing the bitemarks with his tongue. Roger’s eyes started going hazy, and John felt Roger’s fingernails starting to dig into the skin of his lower back.

“Look at them, Fred,” he heard Brian’s voice, lowered to a gravelly rasp. “Aren’t they beautiful together? My Rog and your John. Could you come like this? Watching them touch each other? Or would you hold out, wanting to watch me fuck John into the mattress?”

John pulled his attention away from Roger for a moment to look up. Brian had Freddie on his knees; one of Brian’s hands was pinning both of Freddie’s behind his back. Freddie’s head was thrown back, his pupils blown; John could see his chest heaving. Brian was biting at Freddie’s neck between questions, his dark eyes fixed on the other two, and John shivered in delight.

A slow, devilish smile spread across Brian’s face.

“Fred, you stay here. Rog, come over here.”

Roger wriggled out from under John, who propped himself up on his elbows to watch curiously. Brian and Roger kissed briefly, tenderly, and John felt a smile tug the corner of his mouth.

“Right. Rog, I want you to have some fun with Freddie. Whatever you like, just don’t make him come. He’s to stay in that position unless I say so, understood?”

“Yes, Bri,” Roger looked up at him through his eyelashes.

“I’m going to go take care of John,” Brian growled. “I want you to _speak_ , Rog, while I do it. Make sure we can all hear you.”

And then Brian was looming over John, and John felt his body heat up.

“ _Look at them, Fred. Doesn’t John look so beautiful under Bri?_ ”

John swallowed, unable to stop the full-body shudder. Oh god. He’d forgotten all about Roger’s voice. At normal talking range, so soft and sweet, but all he had to do was drop it just a little – or raise it just a little – and it sounded like that, raspy and sexy and John couldn’t help it if it did _things_ to him.

Brian chuckled slightly, running a hand down John’s chest as he encouraged John to roll onto his back. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, bending down to kiss the hollow of his collarbone. “I love the way you move on stage. No-one can pin you down, can they, little firefly? But here is different, isn’t it?”

John swallowed again as Brian’s fingertips brushed his cock. He managed to find his voice.

“What makes you think I’ll let you?”

Judging by the burning flash in Brian’s eyes, that was absolutely the correct answer.

“ _Look, Freddie. Look at the way he moves into Bri’s touch. Of course, those long fingers feel amazing. Look at the way he’s melting. Does he melt for you, Freddie? Can you melt for me?_ ”

John cried out as Brian’s hand closed around his cock, stroking gently, almost too gently. He felt the fingers of Brian’s other hand creeping up his inner thigh, and parted them further. John wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d had fantasies about Brian’s fingers before. He opened his eyes and turned his head.

Freddie looked thoroughly debauched, his skin marked with little red bites and scratches. Roger was bent over, his mouth on Freddie’s cock but in a very shallow way, only teasing, not giving Freddie the satisfaction he craved.

The feeling of Brian’s finger, coated with lube, sliding around his hole almost dragged his attention back to the guitarist for a moment, but Freddie chose that moment to open his own eyes, and stare back at John, and John saw in them the strain, the exhaustion of the long day.

“Bri,” John said, “Will you let Freddie lie down? He’s tired.”

Brian looked up from where he’d been working a mark into the skin of John’s hip, his finger slipping in deeper as he did so, and tilted his head.

“Hmm.”

Then he went back to John’s skin.

John hardened his voice, trying to remember how he’d sounded when he’d told Freddie get on the bed.

“Brian. Tell Roger to lie Freddie down.”

Tension immediately crackled in the air and Roger’s head whipped up, his already big eyes widening. Freddie’s eyes had darkened even further (John hadn’t been sure that was possible), but John’s eyes were fixed on Brian’s.

And then suddenly Brian’s face softened completely, and he placed a soft kiss on the mark he’d been working on.

“You’re right,” he said gently. “It’s the wrong night for that. Come lie next to John, Fred. Rog, you keep going, though. Can you open him up for me?”

John smiled back at Brian, relieved that they’d somehow managed to effectively communicate. With that said, John was filing away all of this very interesting dynamic for further exploration later.

A second finger joined the first, and John couldn’t stop his moan as his attention was dragged back to the present. Brian had very long fingers and John couldn’t help but push down on them.

Next to him, he heard Freddie gasping in short pants; a quick peek showed Roger still bent down and sucking his cock. John twisted slightly and kissed Freddie messily and awkwardly, open-mouthed and moaning.

Brian worked a third finger in, and John arched up, a jumbled, incoherent sound torn from his throat. Then Brian let go of his cock, and he felt fingers tapping his hip; John looked back at Brian, who still had that gentle expression on his face.

“Do you want me to fuck you, or would you rather Freddie did it?”

“You,” John gasped out. “You first. Then Freddie.”

Brian’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, now that’s an idea. On your hands and knees, then. Rog, how are you doing?”

There was a muffled humming noise in reply; Roger’s mouth was still occupied. Freddie was trembling, and when John craned his neck a little, he could see that one of Roger’s hands had disappeared up between his legs.

 _What would it be like to switch positions with Freddie_?

Then all thoughts were pushed out of his brain as he felt Brian’s cock sliding home, and he rocked backwards as he cried out.

Brian’s firm hands on his hips stopped him and he felt he heat of Brian’s breath against the back of his neck.

“Jesus Christ,” Brian groaned in his ear, “You’re tight, John. Bloody hell – I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“N-No,” John whined. “Mo- _ove_.”

And Brian did, starting off with a few gentle thrusts as if not sure if he could trust John’s assessment of not hurting, but picking up the pace as he realised that John was _definitely_ not hurting.

John pushed back eagerly; he loved being fucked, and loved this position, loved the lack of control that came with it. Brian’s hands were still on his hips, but they were looser now, letting John move and try and up the tempo.

“Please,” John gasped out; his cock was aching and his spine was burning and he could feel his orgasm lurking, close, so close, he just needed a hand – Brian’s hand preferably but he wasn’t too picky at this point. “Please, Bri…”

And then Brian had pulled out completely, and John wailed unhappily at the cold emptiness.

“Shh,” Brian whispered, rubbing his back. “It’s all right. I just thought now that you’re nice and open it could be Freddie’s turn, hmm?”

John nodded frantically, unable to speak, and then it was Freddie’s hands stroking his back, Freddie’s cock sliding easily into him, and John sighed, like he was coming home.

Roger was moving now, into John’s field of vision, and he settled against the pillows, sliding his hips between John’s braced hands and getting himself into a more comfortable position with his legs spread. John’s sight narrowed straight down to Roger’s poor neglected cock, flushed and angry red and leaking pre-come. It seemed unfair to leave him hanging. John licked his lips.

He’d only done this a few times, so he hoped he wasn’t horrible. He bent slightly – an awkward prospect but one with unexpected consequences as it changed Freddie’s angle inside him – and licked at the pre-come.

Roger responded with a howl that shot straight to the top of his range, and John felt that fire on his nerve endings again, and Freddie’s shudder behind him. Carefully, he closed his lips over the head, and began to suck, trying to remember all the things Freddie usually did to him.

Brian was lying to one side for a moment, casually stroking more lube onto his own cock, his face flushed as he watched them. Then he disappeared from John’s field of view. John didn’t have time to wonder where he’d gone before his and Freddie’s rhythm was disrupted by a hard thrust and a moan of pleasure from Freddie.

It took John’s sex-fogged brain a few moments to connect the dots, but suddenly he realised that Brian was fucking Freddie while Freddie was fucking him and that was just too much. It took barely a brush of Brian’s fingertips before he came with a loud shout that made Roger buck up into his mouth. His body sagged, but he somehow managed to stay upright. Brian and Freddie were still moving, sending shockwaves of something just on the pleasure side of pain through John’s over-sensitive body, pulling cries from his throat he wasn’t even aware he could make.

“John – gonna…”

Roger’s gasped warning came just in time to stop John choking; he sucked anyway, enjoying the taste. (His logical brain noted that Roger tasted different to Freddie and filed it away for future reference.) Behind him, he heard Brian make an incoherent jumble of sounds that _might_ have been all of their names smooshed together, and then Freddie’s teeth bit down on John’s shoulder with a high whine and he felt the warmth of Freddie’s orgasm inside him.

John did let his body collapse then, finding himself face down in the sheets with both Freddie and Brian on top of him, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care that it made it hard to breathe, he was so exhausted.

Slowly, his ears registered that Roger was talking.

“Gently, Brian, that’s it, slowly, there you go…Fred, poor thing, you just snuggle up to Brian there, okay? John? Are you still with us? I’m going to turn you on your side, all right?” Roger’s hands were gentle, as soft as his voice, and John found himself on his side and cuddled up to Freddie. “All right, you wait there a moment, I’ll be right back.”

Roger was only gone for moments; then he felt a warm washcloth between his thighs and running over his back, soothing and cleaning at the same time as Roger crooned above him. “That’s it, you’re so lovely, John, feels nice to be clean again, hmm? All right, just let go of Fred for a moment for me, that’s it, he needs a bit of a wipe-down too, okay?”

John managed to open his eyes with an enormous effort. Freddie looked like he was almost asleep as Roger wiped him down, and Brian’s face was buried in his neck. His eyes were sleepy but open, and he met John’s gaze. John forced himself to quirk an eyebrow in question. Brian let out a soft huff.

“Always. You always look after me after sex, right Rog?”

“It makes me feel good, Bri,” Roger replied, somehow managing to wriggle the washcloth between them and continue wiping Brian down.

“Rog,” Freddie mumbled, “come to bed. Come to sleep.”

“In a moment,” Roger soothed, quickly returning the cloths to the bathroom. Then he was back, rearranging John gently so that John was snuggled up to Freddie’s front, and Roger spooned him happily.

A thought managed to surface through John’s haze.

“Not fair, Rog. No-one fucked you.”

He felt Roger’s lips curve in a smile against his shoulder blade.

“Well, we don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, and I can be patient…when I want to be.”

John smiled too, his limbs loose and relaxed as he sank quickly down towards sleep.

“Hey, love?” he whispered softly.

“Mm?”

“Good surprise.”

“Mm.”

And then there was no sound in the room except the light, rhythmic breathing of sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I was so nervous writing this as I watched the hit count go up on the first installment that I had to rewrite it like three times before I was satisfied. I hope you all like it. Foursomes are hard, y'all.
> 
> Oh, and this series got pushed out to four parts instead of three because someone reminded me I forgot about their performance at Odeon and that video comes with the most incredibly obvious hook for smut that it needs to be involved.


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